


A Mother's Prayer

by KrazyKeke



Series: Melanin in the Wayhaven Chronicles [1]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, Mild Spoilers, Originally Posted on Tumblr, book 3 demo spoilers, like only a sentence really lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: Children begin by loving their parents. Then they judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.
Series: Melanin in the Wayhaven Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108706
Kudos: 6





	A Mother's Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> I still don’t really agree with Rebecca and her choices that led to her pretty much abandoning her kid, and a majority of my characters in-game don’t either, though a couple are willing to work with her strictly professionally or just flat out ignore her existence, because karma lol.  
> Umm, this fic is mainly about Rebecca’s feelings during Book 3 Demo, when my male character, Rahsaan Holt, continues to reject her offers of reconciliation. There will be other fics of my own theories and headcanons of their life before it all went to crap, etc. 
> 
> I will be writing more in this fandom, not just with Rahsaan Holt, but my other Detectives too.
> 
> Anyway! If you liked and enjoyed this, want to see more content, please spread the word by kudos or comments, etc <333
> 
> [main blog](https://thekrazykeke.tumblr.com/)  
> [Wayhaven Blog](https://stop-hurting-my-detectives.tumblr.com/)

“I gave you _so many chances_ over the years, Ma...”

...Oh. 

Rebecca knew it. 

Knew that this would be the response that she’d receive the minute the request, the **plea** , left her mouth. 

And yet, still... 

Still, she couldn’t help herself. 

Perhaps she’s becoming something of a masochist as every attempt to get closer to Rahsaan, to try and be his rock, his guide, anything, has been rebuffed each and every time. 

The sight of him sitting at his desk, fist propped underneath his chin and **glaring** at her... It’s almost too much. There’s such judgement in that dark green gaze, disgust, and beneath everything, deep seeded hurt. Resentment where there used to be adoration and childish awe. 

‘But what do you expect when you’ve only stood on the very fringes of his life for over two decades’ Her mind chimes in, laying out the cold hard facts. Logic doesn’t help anything though and she can feel her face becoming hot, though blessedly, her complexion doesn’t really allow for that tell; a mix of embarrassment and shame causing a riot in her brain and body. Turning on a dime, she discreetly swiped at the tear as it rolled down her cheek. 

Hand on the knob, she doesn’t look back, can’t. “Just know that I’ll always be here if you need me.” And then she exits her son’s office before he can throw more vitriol in her direction, deserved as it is. Leaning against the door, she closes her eyes and attempts to collect herself further. 

‘Breathe, Rebecca, breathe.’

Minutes pass and once she’s certain her composure won’t crumple again, does she walk down the hall. Gaze trained pointedly forward, she does not acknowledge Tina Poname or Solomon Verda, the duo undoubtedly on their way to talk to her son, disturb him from getting some much needed rest, the bags underneath his eyes have eyebags, but she keeps walking until she passes the desk where Douglas Friedman is casually playing a game on his phone, lost to the rest of the world.

Rebecca’s gait is calm, unhurried, as she walked out the doors of the police station. Her shoulders are squared and her spine is straight as she walks to her car with quick, brisk steps. But once she’s inside, the doors are locked, she leans her head against the steering wheel, the sting of tears heavy against her eyelashes, and she just breathes. 

In, out. In, out. 

No one is around to see as quiet tears trickle through her fingers and sting her thighs. No one is around to hear the quiet hitch of her breath and see her shuddering shoulders. 

This is the only way she can permit herself to be human. 


End file.
